Finding your path

I was driving home this weekend from Anchorage, minding  my own business, swatting away rain drops on my windshield, when suddenly I was jerked out of my lulled consciousness. I started noticing snow blanketing the side of the road. I don't mean just a nice little covering. I honestly mean early December, first real snow of the year white fluffiness. In the blink of an eye I was in the middle of a full on blizzard. A blizzard in May, people. Then just like that out of nowhere, I turned a corner and the sun came roaring out it in it's finest glory.

It's sort of a cheesy parallel to how the path of life can feel. You start life off where everything is sunny and cheerful, your biggest worry is who gets to play with the doll first. Then along comes the real bumps of life. Zits, boys and the prom. But you keep traveling, meanwhile everyone is asking, pestering and bugging the day lights out of you to figure out your life. How is that possible when you can barely figure out your trigonometry homework?  There are glorious moments of sunshine, when all in the world seems right as rain. But then you get deluged all over again and little drops of water prick your skin like a Chinese water torture device.

The question of what I want to be when I grow up has been swarming around my head a lot these last few weeks. It's funny when I talk to people, people far older than I am, with kids and seemingly normal jobs and the like, they all respond the same way. That they are trying to figure that out too.

It's a lot harder than it seems to just throw up our hands and say, to hec with it and go where the wind blows. That we will always be on the quest to finding our path, in the twisting winding way that is our world.

Currently my brain is fighting a battle of being present and calm in the moment and simultaneously quashing the teeny, high pitched voice of panic. The voice that is screaming with all it's might about time lines, job searches, school applications, right/wrong decisions, where to live, what city to call home, when to go home, when to go on a trip. It's enough to make your brain explode.

That's why I drove 3 hours through the mountains.

It's worth every silent, heart pounding moment.

I came in on Friday night and enjoyed the most calming quiet. It was simply divine. No noise, no kids pattering around. No straining to hear if the kitchen was all clear. No pounding. No whining. Just me. Just me eating dinner, where and when I want to. Alone. Truly alone. Watching a movie on the couch. Talking to Michael where I want to. Not feeling the slightest bit of guilt about lounging in bed until noon the following day. That my friends is, serenity.

I am so blessed to have people on my path of discovery. My family up in Anchorage is fabulous. They are kind and respectful. They treat me with genuine sincerity and the kids are a hoot to hang out with. It's my second home away from home for this nomad.

I had a normal persons weekend, keeping my brain busy. I have to admit to someone that I ate scallops for the first time in 2ish years and man it was fabulous. My tummy felt a little odd, but it was worth it. I saw a dopey movie with a friend and then helped him and another teacher clean up their classrooms for the coming summer. There's something to be said about keeping busy.

So, yes I will gladly brave blizzards for these weekends of normalcy.

I have to remember to channel my inner omm and remember to be present. That life is a path waiting to scream with sunshine when the time is right. We may be in the midst of a full on hurricane but soon enough warm rays will wrap us up in it's sweet embrace. We will get to the end eventually. Might as well enjoy the ride, even if that means we wear rain coats.